Beautiful Lion
by Gratifying. Heartbreak
Summary: Arabella has lived in the Opera House for a long while with her friends, Christine Daae and Meg Giry. She lived the life of a normal ballerina, that is, until she met the mysterious and cryptic phantom. based off the movie
1. The Legend

**Prologue: The Legend**

The legend of the Phantom of the Opera is well-known all over. It was he who showed up one Masquerade, threatening the new owners of the Opera Populaire. It was he who caused the giant chandelier to fall, igniting a flame that would engulf the whole opera house. It was he who haunted Christine Daae, one of my dearest friends. It was also he who changed my life.

He wasn't a legend. The Phantom was merely fantastic at trickery.

My family was stricken by poverty. Their solution was to speak one of their oldest friends, Madame Giry, and ask her to take me in as a ballerina.

This is how I ended up in the Opera House. I had been chosen to room with Madame Giry's daughter, Meg, and her long-time friend Christine Daae. Christine's father was a famous Swedish violinist. He died many years back and since then she'd been living in the ballet dormitories.

Meg and Christine soon became my great friends. We'd go almost everywhere together, though Christine, at times, disappeared to take her "voice lessons." I found it quite odd, considering she denied knowing the man or even what he looks like. But every time she'd come back, she'd sing a bit of a song and her voice became lovelier every lesson.

I was contently living in the large opera house. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't known about the upcoming events that were about to take place.

_A/N: The whole Phantom of the Opera play/movie that this was based off of was not my idea. Only the narrator/main character was created by me._


	2. Curious Mask

**Chapter One: Curious Mask **

"Christine, where have you been off to this evening?" I asked after hearing the quiet pitter-patter of my friend's footsteps sneaking into our room.

"I do believe you should be asleep, Miss Arabella Dakota." Her voice was a sweet whisper in the cool air. Christine tried to use this as an excuse not to answer my question. She should've known me better.

"Off with your angel again?"

I could hear Christine let out an exasperated sigh. "You're impossible, Bella."

"Is that a yes?" I guessed.

Silence.

I stoodgrabbing my cloak in the process. Christine's face was horrified.

"What do you think you're doing?" she practically shouted.

I joked, "I'm feeling a bit hungry for a midnight snack."

"Bella, that's not funny." She grabbed my hand to hold me back. "He doesn't like to be disturbed."

I gave her hand a slight squeeze to comfort her. "I shan't be long," is all I said before I lightly pulled my hand from hers, grabbed a lantern, and slipped out the door.

The Opera House usually had an eerie chill in it, but even more so at night. My body gave an involuntary shiver as I wandered through the halls, with nothing but a flicker of light, imagining all the possibilities. The rumors of the Phantom are what scared me the most. Was it a phantom haunting Christine, or a potential psycho who thinks he's an angel?

I entered the chapel, a place Christine goes often. Upon entering the dark, poignant room, I noticed the candles and pictures underneath them. I spotted Christine's father. I could picture Christine sitting before it, praying and attempting to speak with her father. I set my lantern next to his picture, letting it illuminate his face.

My throat vibrated and my lips held tight as I began humming. This was a nervous habit of mine when I was even slightly afraid. I hummed a tune I once heard Christine sing after a lesson.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against something. A man. A gloved hand wrapped around my mouth just as I began screaming, muffling the noise. The hand smelled of leather. I felt puffs of warm air on my right ear.

"What are you doing?" A clear male voice rang in my ears. I had no idea. My sudden fear took over me so that I forgot my mission in the first place. I forgot everything, even how to breathe. And so, I collapsed under this angel's grasp. Strangely, I never felt myself hit the ground.

I opened my eyes as if I had blinked, but I realized I wasn't in the chapel. I had no idea where I was. That same chill came over me. Where had he taken me? The air smelt damp and smoky from the candelabras reining over the water surrounding this strange lair. I turned to see a music box to my right. A small monkey with symbols sat upon it, giving a warm grin. My finger stroked its soft cheek, causing it to play. The symbols moved and a soft, pretty song played. I hummed along to try and calm my nerves.

I turned to my left, jumping in the process. The man knelt next to the strange bed I was laying in so he was at my level. My heart quickened immensely.

The first sight I caught was his white mask covering half of his face. It was apparent against his dark ensemble. Two blue eyes stared at me, one from the curious mask.

I tried to compose myself, but I knew I was failing. My throat was caught, but soon allowed me to utter, "Who are you?"

A half grin graced his cheeks. I noticed the unmasked section of his face was rather lovely. "I am the Angel of Music."

This shook most of the fear from me. I knew he wasn't an angel just by looking at him: the smirk on his face gave it away. "Frankly, Sir," I boldly stated, "I was asking for a name."

He seemed to be a bit shocked, but he never faltered. "A bit curious, are we?"

His voice was crystal clear. No doubt his singing was just as remarkable, making him the great singing coach Christine claims.

"I would prefer to call you by something other than 'Angel,'" I narrowed my eyes, "or 'Phantom.'"

I myself was surprised by my frankness, but I wouldn't give the impression that he could fool me also.

His grin widened so much that I could see his teeth. They were surprisingly white.

"You may call me Erik."

I smiled now. "Thank you, Erik."

"You're welcome, Arabella."

I shuttered a bit. That was a touch frightening.

"Or," he continued, "Would you prefer Bella, as Christine so fondly calls you."

"The second please."

"Alright, Bella."

Erik stood, extending his hand to me. I hesitantly took it and he led me from this room to the front. An organ stood up front as dark as the rest of this place. He took a seat at it.

"Would you mind telling me what you were doing alone so late at night?"

Erik's head turned to me, looking at me with much curiosity. I tried to respond with the same intensity in my stare.

"I was looking for you."


	3. Active Imaginations

**Chapter Two: Active Imaginations**

I strangely had been very intrigued by a man whom I was supposed to fear. Erik had a sort of intensity to him that I'd never seen before; he was very passionate. All was about his music or Christine. Though, he never mentioned his own personal history: why he lived in the cellar of the opera house, why he was alone, or even why his face bore that odd mask.

Erik had a certain darkness about him, though he never seemed fully distressed about it. He expressed how this darkness brought out his music: it stirred his imagination and was when he was creatively at his best.

After a while, I began to worry. How long had I been away? Surely Christine would take notice. This damp, dark cellar let out no hint as to if it was light outside, or if it was still night. Erik led me through the passageways, and I took note of every turn should I anticipate to return.

"Bella," Erik began, his voice still crystal clear, "I do hope you'll keep our meeting a secret from Christine, that is, for now."

As we arrived to the door leading out, I still hadn't answered. Erik grabbed my upper arm, startling me.

"Will you do me that one thing?" he asked again. I was having a debate in my head, for I rather like being stubborn and defying to show I am no one's dog. Then again, Erik's eyes were rather earnest.

"I suppose."

"You suppose or you will?" he prompted.

"I suppose I will."

With one last gracious grin, I twisted my arm from his hold and walked away from this opera house's phantom.

Walking through the halls, I noticed no trace of light from the windows. I was glad, for that meant it was still night. Then again, I couldn't see a thing, so I walked along the walls, feeling them for indication of where I was. I slammed my foot against something.

"Ow!" I cried squeezing my eyes shut from the pain. When I opened them again, I noticed something. Light. I looked ahead, noticing my lantern placed gingerly in the middle of the floor. I lightly and thankfully made my way over and grabbed it. "Thank you, Erik," I whispered before making my way back. I almost swore I heard him reply from behind the walls.

The second I stepped through the door to my room, Christine embraced me strongly.

"Bella! Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I haven't slept since you left!"

I held on to her also, but not as tight. "I couldn't have been gone that long."

"You've been gone for hours! I'd hoped you come right back and tell me that I'm imagining things."

"What time is it?"

"It's nearly three in the morning."

There was a silence when I realized Christine and I had ballet practice in a few hours.

"Did you find him?" Christine asked. There was a lot of tension in her voice.

Now was my decision: obey or defy the request Erik had left me.

All I could think of were his pleading eyes.

"No," I responded with a weak smile, "You must be imagining things."


End file.
